


Worth It

by placentalmammal



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Clothed Sex, Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tight Spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preston and the Sole Survivor get caught by a radstorm and trapped in a small, enclosed space together. Preston takes advantage of the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

The storm blew in from the south, unexpected as an overnight guest. The blue sky darkened all at once, and the needle on Trevor’s geiger counter jumped up into the red, and he swore. “We got to get under cover,” he said, “ _fast._ ”

No buildings around except a barn, somehow still standing after two hundred years. It was cedar planks and rough-cut fieldstones, stacked uneven and mortared with thick grey stuff. It had a metal roof and looked solid enough, but the doors were locked and bolted, and there wasn’t _time_ to fumble with picks and screwdrivers, not with the first fat drops falling from the darkening sky. Trevor crouched by the door, cursing and spitting, then threw his tools down and took hold of Preston’s hand. “We can stand under the eaves!” he said, “come on!”

There was just enough room for two grown men to shelter under the edge of the overhanging roof. It wasn’t much, but it was out of the rain and mostly out of the wind, and it would have to do. Preston huddled against the rough wall and Trevor stood behind him, still muttering curses as he shivered, toxic rain beating down on the tin roof above them.

Trevor was a small man, but he was strong in every other way. Strong temper, strong words, strong arms. His body was reassuringly solid against Preston’s, warm even though the rain poured down all around them.

Preston had a sudden idea and decided that he liked it well enough to implement it despite their mean surroundings. Wasn’t nobody around to see or overhear, and all the wild animals would be sheltering in their dens, too busy staying dry to investigate the sounds of two gentlemen gettin’ friendly under the eaves of an old barn. Mouth curled up in a lazy grin, he pushed back against the other man, grinding nice and slow against his cock.

“Preston,” Trevor hissed. “What are you _doing_?”

“Nothing,” he said smugly, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet to grind against Trevor more insistently. “Nothing at all.” Even through all their layers of clothing -- long underwear, canvas trousers, duster -- he could feel the gentle pressure of Trevor’s stiffening cock.

Trevor swore under his breath, a muttered string of curses fit to make a drill instructor blush. Preston laughed low in his throat and rocked against the other man, welcoming the press of Trevor’s cock. Outside, the rain beat down steadily, cold and toxic and loud as submachine gun fire against the tin roof.

Trevor huffed irritably, his breath warm against Preston’s throat. He gripped Preston’s hips with pale fingers numb from cold, pushing forward and grinding against his ass. He groaned, tension humming through him like an electric current.

“Bastard,” he muttered, his voice coiled tight as a spring. His hands dug into Preston’s hips, fingers flexing and tightening as Preston ground against him, slow and forceful. “Lousy rotten bastard-- _christ!_ ”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Preston teased, breathless with laughter and arousal. He’d pitched a tent in his trousers, erection straining against the layers of fabric.

“‘Bout to do a lot more,” said Trevor, shifting his weight and leaning forward to pin Preston against the wall. Groaning, he assumed control of the encounter, and Preston surrendered happily, grinding back against him. His eyes fluttered shut while Trevor mouthed at his ear and jaw, more teeth and tongue than lips. “Gonna tear that fucking coat off you, get my hands on you.”

“Yeah?”

“Gonna make you hard,” he mumbled, hips snapping forward. “Make you beg for it. Get your pretty cock rock hard for me.”

Preston shivered, lips parted as he ground back against Trevor. “Already is,” he said. “God, babe, you’ve got me so horny, I can’t _think_ \--” his words ended in a gasp as Trevor grabbed his dick through his clothes, clumsy and rough.

He fit his hand around Preston’s cock and squeezed gently. Preston moaned and pushed back into the other man, trapped between his body and the wall, worked up with nowhere to go--

He groaned and shivered, precome trickling down his cock and soaking into his thermals. Trevor released his dick and reached instead for his belt buckle, working the leather loose and tugging his zipper down. A calloused hand slipped into the worn elastic waistband of Preston’s long underwear, fingertips icy cold against Preston’s flushed skin. He shivered, gooseflesh prickling along his hip as Trevor’s hand slipped south, pushing his clothes down to bare Preston’s dark, rosy skin.

Trevor’s cold hand closed around his cock. Hissing, Preston went rigid in Trevor’s arms, spine drawing up stiff. Cold air, colder hands, warm body flush against his own. Eyes screwed shut, he swallowed, heartbeat keeping time with the rain on the roof, almost unbearably loud in the confined space.

Lips brushing Preston’s jaw, Trevor chuckled. He pinched back Preston’s foreskin and slid his icy fingers over the head of his cock, collecting precome. His touch was agony, cold hands drawing a guttural groan. The sound originated deep in Preston’s belly, a ragged groan like a dying animal. Trevor shushed him with a kiss and began to smear precome over his cock. Evidently, it wasn’t enough lubrication for whatever he had in mind, because he stuck his fingers into Preston’s mouth and pushed back over his tongue.

Trevor’s fingers tasted like salt: sweat and precome and gunmetal, radiantly cold. Preston sucked, lathing his tongue over calloused fingertips to coat them with saliva. The other man’s cold skin warmed in Preston’s mouth, leeching his heat and chilling him in return. Equal exchange.

Shivering, Preston relaxed against Trevor, still highly conscious of the cock pressing against his ass. Grinning around the other man’s fingers, Preston twitched his hips and ground back against him. Trevor groaned and pulled his fingers from Preston’s mouth, wrapping them around his cock instead.

Preston gasped as Trevor began to jerk him off, slow and steady. Breath coming in ragged pants, he leaned forward to brace himself against the wall. The scent of damp cedar filled his nose, a dizzying counterpoint to the hand on his dick and the skilled fingers teasing his slit. Trevor stroked Preston’s throbbing dick, smearing saliva and precome over the ruddy head of his flushed cock, making a right mess of him. Preston shivered and threw his head back, clenching his jaw to keep himself from crying out.

The rat-tat-tat of the rain against the roof kept him steady, kept him grounded, even while Trevor pushed him closer and closer to the edge. He wriggled and jerked, caught like a fish on a line. He held out for a few quiet, desperate minutes, then relented, cock twitching in Trevor’s fist as he reached orgasm.

“Tease,” Trevor muttered, words dark and warm and stinging as woodsmoke. He was breathing hard, panting against the shell of Preston’s ear. He was worked up as Preston had been, dick trapped in layers of fabric. He ground back against Trevor; was rewarded with a gasp and a grunt as the other man surged forward, rutting against Preston’s ass with renewed fervor.

“Wish I could fuck you,” he said, pressing kisses to Preston’s neck and jaw. “Want to get you all spread out for me, all wet and hungry for my cock.”

“When we get back,” Preston promised, “when we make it to Sanctuary, I want you to make me scream. I want you to fuck me into the mattress. I want--”

His words were swallowed up by Trevor’s mouth on his, rough and greedy. He went still against Preston, hips lifting and twitching as he came. Preston rocked back into him, his eyes closed. Trevor huffed and shivered and jerked against him, catching Preston’s hand in his own and squeezing.

Trevor kissed him gently. “That was good,” he whispered. “Real fucking good.” A pause. “‘M going to be chafing something _fierce_ , but--”

“Worth it?” Preston asked, laughing.

“Worth it,” Trevor confirmed.


End file.
